


Unheard

by BlackCats



Category: The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 20:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1912704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCats/pseuds/BlackCats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And suddenly--she couldn't feel him anymore. She never thought him capable of *this*.<br/>(Ravio, and Hilda, and struggling to get through.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unheard

The castle was pitch-black inside—it seemed that someone had forgotten to light the torches again.

Ravio sighed as he struck flint and stone together, igniting the wick of a lantern and traveling deeper down the familiar halls. He probably could have managed it without any sort of illumination since he knew Lorule Castle so very well, but it was better safe than sorry.

He was admittedly terrified of what beast could be lurking in the shadowy depths.

But there seemed to be nothing, as Sheerow flew on ahead, flapping his stubby wings and guiding him toward his destination. Despite their different species, Ravio felt he was probably more chicken than his avian companion.

It should have been a grand sight. Hilda’s room with the carved crest above the entryway…Ravio closed his eyes and tried to imagine it as brilliantly as it could have been. All glinting gold and white stone. As beautiful as she deserved.

And she deserved so much better than this crumbling, dusty array of worn bricks and frayed tapestries.

Ravio shifted his hold on the bag slung across his shoulder, lifting a fist and knocking lightly. It was a musical sound, determinedly cheerful in defiance of the grim atmosphere. The lack of a response prompted a more formal knock—a stern _rat-a-tap-tap_ that resounded in the silence—but still, nothing, and he began to grow concerned.

“Is she really in there, buddy?”

Sheerow crooned something low in what passed for his throat, settling upon his master’s head and ruffling his feathers. A yes, then. What to do…?

“Your Highness?”

Still nothing. A thousand frightening scenarios passed through his mind and were dismissed just as quickly due to being unreasonable. Ravio shrugged and gingerly began to push the door open since it was actually unlocked.

“So…I’m coming in, if that’s all right with you…?”

Her bedchamber was quite a bit messier than he remembered. _What, just from yesterday?_ He thought in disbelief, eyes darting around at the rumpled sheets on her canopy bed, resting briefly on some scattered books before moving to a figure that was quite clearly Princess Hilda staring out the window.

He froze. She didn’t react to his intrusion or to the sound of the door closing.

“Your Highness?” He tried again, louder this time.

Her back was turned but he could see how hard she was concentrating on her thoughts just by the tension in her shoulders. Sheerow chirruped encouragement and Ravio dared to inch closer, talking as he did so.

“We’re in luck today, Princess! You won’t believe what my buddy and I found this morning—“ Or what he _assumed_ was morning, since Sheerow was awake. The little guy had a great sense of time. “Over at the pond? A monstrous fish!”

Hilda was either ignoring him or for some reason honestly didn’t hear. Her grip on her staff looked like it was in danger of crushing it and her scarlet gaze stared out at the dusky horizon with an unreadable shine.

Ravio fought back the spike of unease and cleared his throat, continuously tiptoeing nearer. “Well, not a _monster_ -monster…If it was I probably would have run…” He mumbled in a tiny voice. Quickly he continued, clearer. “Anyway, I fished up the sucker and now we’ve got ourselves a nice meal! I cooked it and everything just for us!”

“Don’t.”

“It’s right here in my—“ Ravio blinked. “D-Don’t what, Your Highness?”

“ _Don’t_ give it to me. Give it to someone else… _anyone_ else…” She stomped her staff on the ground once and whirled to face him. Her eyes sliced through him like a dagger and he shrunk back, immediately sheepish. “There are a thousand people more deserving of a good meal. Share it with one of them.”

“That isn’t true,” he protested weakly, but Hilda cut him off.

“As always…dear Ravio…your efforts are appreciated. But wasted on me.”

He watched as she went back to gazing out the window. Ravio decided to ignore her, placing the pack down and taking out the little metal tin that contained the very carefully cooked fish. He stuck it on her bedside dresser along with a smaller case of chocolate—a _divine_ rarity in the barren lands of Lorule.

“Rupee for your thoughts, my princess?” He said, soft. Sheerow warbled sadly, echoing the sudden solemnity in the room. Hilda had a habit of draining the air of anything approaching good cheer when she was in one of her moods…and they became more and more common over the years he’d known her.

It hurt. A lot.

He wanted so badly to help her. But she would allow no one else to shoulder even an ounce of the guilt and pain that coursed throughout her, day after day, night after night, every waking and sleeping minute for more than a decade.

“…What am I to do? What am I to possibly do, Ravio?”

He wished he had an answer for her, but he didn’t. It seemed she didn’t expect one since she kept talking anyway.

“With each passing moment, I feel my kingdom wither away into nothingness. Decay and death…for so long now…Our proud land reduced to a graveyard for the forsaken. What hope could there be for us? For my people?”

Ravio said nothing. Later on he would wish that he had, since he could have stood a chance at stopping her before she reached a dreadful conclusion.

Hilda sighed and closed her eyes. She said, nearly inaudibly: “So be it then.”

She turned to face him and Ravio quirked a nervous, inquiring eyebrow. “Your Highness…?”

“There is no other alternative. Ravio. I must make a journey.”

“Th-Then let me come with you!”

“No. It’s something that must be done alone, for the present at least…” Hilda strode to her wardrobe and began rifling around for something within it. Ravio paled, a bead of sweat materializing beneath his dark bangs.

“A- _Alone_?! But Your Highness, you know it isn’t safe for you to travel…”

“Trust me on this: If this is to be Lorule’s only chance at revival, I will not allow anyone or anything to stop me.” Her voice was black with a promise that made Ravio’s hair stand on end.

“Revival…? I don’t think I understand.”

Hilda pulled a long cloak around her slender figure, gripping the edges of the hood and staring at him with an indescribable emotion burning in her irises. “You will be filled in on everything soon enough.” She added in a gentler tone, “This, I promise you. I must ask you to trust me, Ravio.”

Ravio had a million and one questions and even more nervous reservations on the matter, but in the end he didn’t dare voice them. He dipped his head instead. “...Always, my princess.”

She smiled. He nearly missed it but he caught the tail end of it as he lifted his head—tiny and rare and he was already wanting it back once it was gone. He wanted desperately to go with her but he knew once she made her mind up...

Still, he wanted to do _something_...

Ravio suddenly startled and grabbed the container of chocolate, hurrying back to her and placing it in her hands.

“At least take that with you! You never know when you might need a bit of an energy kick.” He tried a grin for her and Hilda chuckled. Another rare occurrence.

“Thank you. I must apologize for refusing your cooking after all the trouble you went to, but it really is better shared with somebody else…” Hilda grasped her staff ever tighter as she tucked the chocolate away in her robe. “Your kindness is sublime, dear Ravio.”

“H-Heheh…” He rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t know about that, Princess…”

“No, but _I_ do. I should be back within a day. And once I return…” She headed out, striding with all the dignity the last of a royal line deserved. “There will be hope again. We _will_ have a future. So say I, Hilda of Lorule…”

~*X*~

Hilda had just finished outlining the outrageous plan she had concocted with Yuga, and Ravio _still_ hadn’t said a word.

He was aware that she was waiting, yes, just staring at him expectantly. But he couldn’t dredge up even the smallest amount of enthusiasm at what she was proposing. It was nothing short of horrendous.

To revive Lorule…by taking _Hyrule’s_ Triforce? To damn an entire world that had never done anything wrong to them…in order to try and make up for the mistakes of their ancestors? It didn’t make any sense. It made absolutely _none at all_.

Ravio swallowed hard, biting his nails, his other hand clenched into a fist upon which Sheerow perched.

Hilda’s eyes—once so bright with a twisted, fragile hope—darkened. “You’re displeased.”

“Your…Your Highness…”

“It is the only way.”

“More death is the only way to help Lorule? That can’t be right,” Ravio objected so quietly that Hilda had to frown and step closer to hear.

“Sacrifices must be made, and it cannot—it _will not_ —be from Lorule. Lorule has suffered enough as it is. Can you deny that, Ravio? What else can we relinquish that we have not already lost? What other alternative is there?”

“But we’re going to make _Hyrule_ pay for what _our_ ancestors did?” Ravio’s voice hitched, becoming a bit louder, more challenging as he went on. “Lorule is crumbling away, but if we take their Triforce, we’ll be killing thousands…maybe even _millions_ …!”

“ _We’ve already lost millions!_ ” Hilda crashed her staff upon the ground and Ravio flinched. “Countless lives and animals, good people who have faded to dust along with the rest of this land. If we do nothing…then Lorule will not last the century. The chasms expand ever wider, and I cannot—“

“Please, Your Highness, I know how you feel but listen to me—“

“No,” Hilda hissed, her voice akin to searing flames, matching the vicious red flare of her eyes. “You will listen to _me_ , Ravio. As your princess, your superior, and…” Once more, he watched her expression soften ever so slightly. He saw the miserable girl that was struggling with the impossible weight of a dying kingdom, and he realized, he really _didn’t_ understand. Not fully. Not like she needed. “And your friend. Dearest Ravio. I need you at my side for this.”

Ravio’s eyes dropped. Sheerow’s tiny talons were really digging into his skin by this point as the bird tightened his grip with the tension. “Princess…”

“Please.” Hilda approached him now, looking less furious and more than a little exhausted. “I know you have your doubts, but you _must_ trust me. I’m only doing what is best for Lorule.”

“You know I trust _you_ , Your Highness. It’s _Yuga_ I don’t trust.”

“Yuga is on our side,” Hilda said, icy. “Without his efforts, I never would have learned of our connection to Hyrule. Agreeing to meet with him bestowed upon us a _chance_. He gifted us with opportunity—something Lorule has long since been deprived of. Do you understand how momentous this is? Within a fortnight, _everything_ could be different. _Everything_.”

There was a zealous, almost frenetic undertone to her words that made Ravio shiver. He just bowed his head and mumbled, “For my princess, I’ll do what I have to.”

Hilda interpreted that in a way favorable to her, smiling. “For this, Ravio, you have my thanks. Come with me—come and meet Yuga. We have much to discuss and little time left to prepare.”

Ravio nodded shakily, but the instant Hilda turned her back to him, he clenched his fists.

There was no way he would allow this.

He would go with her—learn what he could—see Yuga for himself, and figure out what he had to do to stop Hilda from making the biggest mistake of her life.

He had to.

~*X*~

Yuga was all slime and silk—attempting to mask his poisonous words with a sweet candied coating that the princess devoured without a second thought. ” _For the good of Lorule, Your Grace.”_

And if it was for Lorule, they both knew that Hilda would do anything.

It made him sick. Ravio wished he was just a _little_ braver…then he could chase Yuga back to whatever pit he crawled out from and properly stand his ground against Hilda. Yet it was not to be.

So he listened…and waited. Although Ravio could feel his knees knock together sometimes when the dastardly magician would cast a barbed smile his way, he didn’t run.

No. Not yet.

That would come within three days.

Hilda was hardly on her own anymore. Yuga became her shadow, grinning and filling her head with reassurances of her actions. Ravio would always be just a bit behind, obviously subdued, and there were times when the princess would pause and give him a quiet look of comfort—except it was as hollow as Yuga’s words by that point.

_“For the good of Lorule,”_ she would say, and Ravio would never reply.

~*X*~

She felt it as a sudden emptiness in the depths of her mind.

Hilda frowned and closed her eyes, thinking that perhaps she simply wasn’t concentrating enough. Yes, that had to be it. She reached out for his presence—so familiar to her over the course of their long friendship that at times she would connect without meaning to—calling out his name as she did.

_Ravio?_

No response.

The blank space resounded throughout her very soul. She didn’t understand, didn’t know why she couldn’t find him…even should he have…have _fallen_ …she’d be able to sense at least _something_ …She knew him too well. Like the back of her hand. His presence was so simple to spot, to feel. He _had_ to be there.

…He _should_ have been there.

_He should have been there._

Why wasn’t he there?!

Louder now, frantic, a desperation quite unlike her flooding her entire being.

_Ravio...? Where are you?_

Absolutely nothing answered her calls. Her words rebounded back upon herself, empty, unheard. Hilda’s eyes snapped open and she paced, brows furrowing, recalling the last time she had seen him.

Their plan went into action within a day—two, at most. She had informed of this, of the role he was to play. He had watched her with such sad eyes…

_“Take heart, dearest Ravio. It will be worth it in the end.”_

_“I know.”_

And he had sighed in a way quite unlike him, like a thousand years of torment had piled itself into that one sound. What had he done? Where had he gone to be beyond the range of her telepathy? Surely he hadn’t somehow escaped to Hyrule…

Yuga seemed to know. Or at least…know _something_.

“Of _course_ he’ll return to you, Your Grace,” he soothed with a reptilian smile. “Once Lorule is restored to its former picture-perfect glory, the little… _rapscallion_ …will come to his senses. You’ll see.”

“Yes…yes, of course.” Hilda turned and gazed out the window once more at the desolate landscape of her kingdom. _He has to._

Lorule just wouldn’t be the same without him.

Sometime later, when Hyrule’s Hero was traversing the fields of her birthright in search of the Sages he so desperately needed, his presence in her mind reminded her heavily of the one she was trying hard to forget.

She ate the last piece of chocolate from the case that day—

It was dark. And bitter.


End file.
